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Post by nickbo on Apr 1, 2009 16:21:24 GMT -5
Damion appeared to be taking Paul's statement somewhat seriously. Frowning with thought he blinked slowly, raising a slight eyebrow. Was there anything? The blonde struggled to think up something that would possibly destroy his stalking ability.
"... I can't think of any names!" he did in fact smile, nodding enthusiastically. It was actually though Damion merely stated he couldn't think of anything; that didn't mean they weren't names that would make him dash away. In fact Damion had been delightfully refrained (YES HE WAS REFRAINING HIMSELF) and had managed not to run off yet. Perhaps he just wanted to stay with Paul's awesome though. B-but his scarf? When the purple-haired adolescent brought it up Damion actually became aware of his urge to fidget. His hand made a move to grab it out of nervousness against those froze, glancing down to it curiously.
"U-ugly? the blonde repeated as if somewhat offended, tugging at his scarf, "... How is it annoying? Green is the best colour ever after all! A-and... Why d'ya wanna see my neck then?"
He whined the words, coming to that conclusion rather then the fact that some could view his clothing accessory as an eyesore. In fact he managed to yank the green scarf even tighter as if determined not to let it get taken off his neck whilst he listened to the boy's other words. Afterwards his hand remained tightly gripped on the green fabric as if just for comfort, "... Does that mean you want to keep him then? I thought you said you were going to abandon him!" [/b] Damion did appear confused and he frowned slightly, "Pfft, I don't think you could beat me anyway! Sonic and I have battled already and won!"[/b] Did catching a Pokemon count as winning a battle? He thought so anyway. The return of the nickname 'blondie' seemed to make him happy anyway but that was quickly replaced by 'dumbass'. Regurgitating was a way to feed the young disrespectful too right? He glanced back the younger redhead, watching the conflict between the two with slight fascination. It was... SO COOL! Blinking however when he himself was included Damion could only glance down in his Slowpoke that appeared not offended in the slightest, only giving out a: "Slooooowww..."... Why did the blonde feel as if it was agreeing? He had to refrain shuddering and glare back up to the redhead, clenching a first - tightly on the scarf though and for some reason he begun to feel a lack of air in his lungs). "W-well maybe Sonic's a bit unusual but... At least it doesn't regurgispit!"[/b] Damion had only just remembered it wasn't regurgitation half-way through the word an had attempted to salvage it, hence the new word 'regurgispit'. Perhaps it was the fact the boy had confused him with the Pokemon move knowledge. "A-and why don't I get a comment?[/b][/blockquote]
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Post by Wrath on Apr 1, 2009 20:09:03 GMT -5
Paul breathed a sigh of irritation, looking sideways at Damion and crossing his arms. To think that this idiot had inspired feelings of empathy and respect in him was shameful. And Paul was determined not to let it happen again.
“Nn…Just keep thinking about it, Blondie. And the moment you come up with a name, you tell me, got it?” He growled, his eyes slowly shutting, and his lip curling in a display of extreme annoyance.
This situation was absurd. He should’ve gotten out of there the moment the boy had barreled into him. Now what had he gotten himself into? He had a stalker with a disturbing touchy-feely Slowpoke, and ginger-haired children were popping out of nowhere! Well, really, there was only one redhead, and he had most likely come from Viridian, but this mad situation was interfering with his level-headed logic and thus in Paul’s mind they were everywhere. Opening a single eye and looking hesitantly at Damion again when he spoke up, Paul watched as the boy fiddled with his horrendous, offensively bright scarf. Once again, he couldn’t explain it, but watching as Blondie tugged at it, pulling it tighter around his neck, Paul felt a shudder run down his spine. (SCARF PHOBIA LOL?) “Why the hell would I ever want to see your neck? I want you to take the damned thing off because it’s disgusting, not because I crave your skin, dumbass.” Paul hissed, his quiet tone somehow even more saturated with anger then his shouts.
Realizing he had been contradicting himself, saying first Reeper was definitely going to be released then saying he was going to undergo some special training, Paul pondered.
“Don’t think so hard, Blondie. It doesn’t become you,” He told, his lips curving into a dark smirk. However, Damion’s words actually inspired some thought. Perhaps…he would give Reeper some more time to get stronger. He was wasting enough time hanging around with the blond boy, so perhaps he should invest even a fraction of that time in the electric sheep? Paul’s eyes sought out the pokemon in question, and he found it cowering just out of kicking distance, its wide eyes fixed on its trainer. Seeing the pure fear in Reeper’s eyes inspired no emotion in the cold, purple-haired boy, however, he decided indeed he was keeping the pathetic creature, at least for a while.
“And as for you winning a battle. Blondie, I really doubt that. Hmph.”
However, Paul’s neck turned until his face was towards the redhead when he spotted the boy moving out of the corner of his eye. The kid looked both him and Damion up and down, and Paul felt his already beady eyes narrow at the judgmental gaze. This boy looked like he might provide more of a challenge than Damion. A smirk twisted his face. Even when the redhead spoke up, tossing out a few rather good insults, the rough smirk remained in place. Paul pulled his emotion armour around him, letting the insults roll off him like water droplets off a Butterfree’s wings. Except, Paul was decidedly more manly then a Butterfree, of course.
“I’d watch your mouth, kid. You never know when someone might decide to punch it.” Paul muttered, his eyes closing but his smirk widening. His balanced tone was a stark contrast when comparing it to the snarl he had used when first addressing the boy, but Paul’s temper was still near the surface, ready to be unleashed if he felt the situation called for it.
However, it seemed that Paul didn’t need it quite yet, as the boy turned his attack on Blondie, and a barely distinguishable chuckle escaped the cruel purple-haired teen. He said nothing though, merely let the insults hit him. Damion didn’t seem to mind them, anyway, and neither did the disturbing Slowpoke in question. However, Reeper seemed to dislike it, and wished to protect the trainer that had never kicked him or hurt him. He leaped forward to stand in front of Damion, staring down the nearby Sneasel. “Re-ee-eep!” Was his intimidating battle cry.
Paul stared at him coldly, rolling his eyes. “Hmph. Some of us here may be weak--” Paul began, looking from Reeper, to Damion and his own pokemon, “--But don’t group us all together, kid.”
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Banette
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Post by Banette on Apr 1, 2009 21:16:25 GMT -5
Not bothering to turn, the boy merely smirked. Interesting. Back in Johto, most folk would try to avoid talking to him out of fear that he'd eat their soul or something of the sort. This was an interesting change of pace, he supposed.
"One, you get no comment simply because you're..."
The boy stated simply, glancing back at the two, a sort of amusement in his voice. Perhaps saying he was "undeserving" wouldn't exactly a kind thing to say to a boy who had done nothing to threaten him.. Though he honestly had no idea what to say otherwise that wasn't a lash at the blonde's intelligence, or there lack of.. He noticeably paused for a moment before continuing.
"... Special."
Fair enough. That settled, he turned his attention to the rude older one.
"Secondly, A trainer is only as good as his Pokemon." Noting where Reeper stood in the matter, he smirked. "Frankly, it's clear to me where you stand if you can't even get a MAREEP to stand at your command."
The Sneasel returned the stare directed towards him, appearing slightly puzzled by the attempt to intimidate him. Why was this critter attempting to engage him in a staring contest?...
It was then the dark type caught on. Lightly moving the backpack to rest beside his trainer, the Sneasel stood his ground, pausing to stare down the Mareep himself for a moment. He then brought a clawed paw, which he pointed palm-up in Reeper's direction. Curling it a few times in a copyrighted taunting manner, a malicious smirk took it's features as it once again stood ready to strike on command.. "Sneeeeeaseeeeel...." He called in an almost mocking tone.
"You're welcome to try and change my mind, however." The boy stated, subconsciously getting into a slightly defensive position himself. It wouldn't be amusing if this guy DID decide to punch him in the jaw.
Smartassery apparently came with a price in this region, though he was confident he might be able to take this guy. He didn't seem to be all that intelligent, nor did his friend. Sure, he was bigger, though if worse came to worse, fleeing wouldn't be too hard... He'd at least have the forest as cover.
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Post by nickbo on Apr 6, 2009 15:33:54 GMT -5
"Yeah! When I think up a name I'll tell you Paul!" [/b] Damion was far too enthusiastic to be cheering those words. There was even a wide smile on his face and one could only wonder how on Earth someone could be so eager to say such a thing. He didn't mind 'Blondie' though, despite the fact it brought up his hair. Of course as awesome as his hair was (which was very) blondeness... Well, he didn't like the colour as much as the unique shape of it. He certainly didn't look upset about it though until his scarf was ridiculed. It appeared the trainer was somehow able to absorb insults about himself like a sponge would absorb water but his scarf was an entirely different matter. "B-but... My Scarf is not disgusting! If you say that again I'll... I'll fine you!" he once protested and his grip tightened on the scarf. Perhaps he was just being a little stubborn and he shook his head in refusal; after all, he, Lucas and Dawn all had matching scarves. It was their thing! "Feh, I'm not taking it off! Never will""But doubt my battling skills? Ahah, I have evidence to to prove my testimony!"Perhaps he wasn't so entirely certain what 'evidence' and 'testimony' really meant/were but he had seen the words used in fancy circumstances. This was a fancy circumstance too right? He had used the words rather badly though but that didn't really matter to him. After a moment of shuffling Damion did pull out his 'evidence'; the pokeball was pulled out over-dramatically along with a rather arrogant grin. "See? This is what I got from my battle,"[/b] he grinned, his grip tightening around the pokeball as he thrusted it forward rather proudly. Of course he'd be proud though; that had been a massive accomplishment for him. In a sense he had practically forgotten he had it... Whatever it was. Yes, perhaps Damion didn't entirely know what it was but that didn't matter if he was manly right? "Already caught my second Pokemon! I'm incredibly fast right? Jealous much Paul? See, I'm as amazing as you are!"[/b] Damion wasn't sure what to make of the other person though. Paul didn't seem get along so well at all and the blonde only could blink innocently, completely confused by this conflict. Why were they... Fighting wasn't? Actually it wasn't fighting, it was just Paul being threatening and the other one being witty. The blonde stayed as he was mentioned himself and for a few more as he contemplated his thoughts. Special? That was good wasn't it? "B-but I think Paul's pretty special too![/b] [/blockquote]
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Post by Wrath on Apr 6, 2009 21:30:08 GMT -5
Paul basically ignored Damion’s first statement. He had no time to deal with any more of his thoughtless blather. He shot him a glance filled with irritation and overflowing with the threat of violence, but somehow managed to resist the overpowering urge to slam Damion’s face into the dirt. Perhaps it wasn’t so much that he was resisting, so much as looking at Damion’s enthusiastic eyes pulled the urge right from him. Cursing himself and averting his gaze to glare coldly at the redhead again, Paul struggled to quash the pesky emotion rising up in him again. What the hell was with this damned blond? Paul’s lip curled and he shut his eyes tightly for a moment as if fighting a bout of nausea rather than a feeling. However this expression lasted only a moment before Paul replaced it with his usual cold scowl. However, Blondie continued to speak beside him, his voice widening the crack in Paul’s emotional barrier. He hardly heard the words, ignored their meaning. But the voice grinded against his ears, pulling up emotions that Paul was not about to deal with. He needed Blondie to stop. But he couldn’t hit him… An idea hit him harder than a punch, and Paul reacted like an Ursaring roused early from hibernation. He turned toward Damion and closed the distance between them with a single step. His lip curling and his eyebrows coming farther down over his dark eyes, Paul grabbed the offensive green scarf and yanked upwards, pulling Damion’s face closer to his. (OH HULLO. –shot-) Despite the fact that the proximity disturbed him, his angry expression never wavered. “Shut. Up. NOW.” Paul hissed through his teeth. He never let go of the boy, however, when he swiveled his head over to glare at the redhead. The younger boy’s words brought him only further irritation; an emotion he was perfectly comfortable and familiar with. Paul let a smirk cover his face to mask his ever-growing anger. He tried to let the insult roll off him again, but this one caught on like a bur to his clothes. He held in his retort however, admittedly unable to think of a proper comeback. So, he went to default mode. “Pathetic.” Paul spat disdainfully, tightening his grip on Damion’s scarf so much his pale scars stood out on his knuckles like a drop of ink on a clean piece of paper. He watched the boy’s Sneasel as it began to taunt his pathetic Reeper, turning now to look at the sheep. Reeper’s fleece seemed to bristle, and he began to glare with even more adorable-attempted-ferocity at Sneasel. “Reeper…” Paul began harshly, his voice fading as he considered what to do. It would do Reeper good to get destroyed. To feel some pain. Maybe he’d learn not to be so willing to defend stupid blonds. “Stand by for battle!” Paul completed, his voice raising in volume. Reeper looked shocked, and he wagged his tail, finally feeling some sort of connection with his trainer. He was standing very close to the nice trainer-who-had-never-kicked-him, so perhaps he wanted to defend him now, too? (Reeper is very astute, is he not? –shot’d and burned-) Reeper nodded his head in determination, tiny sparks escaping his fleece as he charged up his new-found Thundershock attack. The Sneasel’s sharp claws scared him, but he wasn’t about to disappoint the nice trainer, or his own. He didn’t want to get kicked again, after all.
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Banette
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Post by Banette on Apr 6, 2009 21:51:09 GMT -5
"...."
The boy merely smirked in response to the two. Young lovers, maybe? They certainly fought like it. (OH SNAP SILVER) Ah well. As heartwarming as it was, he didn't particularly care much for the relations of his opponents. Instead, the battle at hand...
Anger. It could make a fool of anyone. As this older boy seemed to be quite frequently angry, or passionate about the blonde, this would be easy picking.
Eyeing the Mareep intently for a moment, he began issuing commands in a calm, firm tone, as opposed to the drill-Sargent type attitude his opponent was taking.
"Sneasel, Quick Attack. Avoid the flanks, head directly for the finish." He stated simply with no real reaction otherwise as the Sneasel shot off seemingly faster then a light could be turned out. Within the instant, it's true intentions could be seen through speed- deadly claws were towards the Mareep's neck, aiming just below the chin. It seemed the intention here was purely to kill.
... Or at least astonish the Mareep into submission, maybe shocking itself or something equally ridiculous, if that was even possible. Most likely not.
He took a moment to think about what he just said. Perhaps his language WAS a bit odd... Sneasel understood him, however. His opponent might not... Yet that was all that mattered in a battle, correct?
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Post by nickbo on Apr 7, 2009 11:18:33 GMT -5
Paul was fast.
Of course, that was one of the very many things Damion admired about the other teenager. One might question the 'admire' action as... Well, Damion had only met purple-haired adolescent moments ago and yet he was already looking childish things that the other hadn't even indulged in. Paul was very speedy however and the blonde couldn't help be somewhat amazed as he felt his air supply get cut off.
Issuing a girly manly yelp (that to be honest sounded a bit like a bewildered Poochyena pup) the blonde was yanked into the grip. He did lose his breath and it hurt too but he was generally paying more attention to Paul's face then anything else. That... That was just so awesome! He wasn't sure whether being the recipient made it even better or not! T-this was so amazing! He would have added something; he still could speak despite the fact breathing had become generally harder but Damion was awed into silence. At least he thought he was anyway, he didn't know why he wanted to keep the silence. 'Cause Paul asked him to? But he never really listened to what Paul said, as amazing as he was...
The close proximity didn't seem to bother him at all it appeared. After all, the blonde trainer possessed the miraculous ability to become completely oblivious to other's people discomfort and he invaded people's personal space all the time! For some reason however he felt his face heating up slightly. It was probably just the close contact with Paul's awesome! That was all! The fore-mentioned purple-haired boy turned away though to address the other suddenly though and Damion could only attempt to turn himself. Movement was rather limited though because of the grip the purple-haired adolescent had on his scarf and as much as he liked it the blonde couldn't help but stare down at it irritably for a second. That was when... Well, something caught his eye.
There were... Marks? Those weren't usually supposed to be on fists right? His short attention span activated as he actually leaned in slightly more. T-that might have seemed a bit 'out-of-the-blue' for random people watching and actually didn't help him (he even gave a slightly frustrated huff to accompany the deep thinking face he wore). The blonde at that point remembered the existence of his arms whilst remaining oblivious to the violence that was going to occur between the Mareep and Sneasel.
"Wh-what're these...?" [/b] He trailed off and... Attempted to grasp Paul's hand? At least to examine the marks more as Damion, as mentioned before, was delightfully oblivious to the personal shebang. Trying to brush his hands Paul's knuckles over Damion frowned somewhat, still obviously confused by as he had the innocent, pouted expression on his face. Were they awesome marks or something? [/blockquote]
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Post by Wrath on Apr 7, 2009 14:38:15 GMT -5
Paul felt himself slowly returning to his personal comfort zone. Exchanging insults and words in general with random kids, and dealing with stalkerish blonds were not familiar to him. But the way he was dealing with Damion was practically a routine to him. Admittedly however, if Damion were anyone else, he’d be on the ground already, bleeding out some nice bright red to go with that disgusting scarf of his. As it were, it was Blondie in his grasp, and Paul could not make himself hit him. Even imagining hurting him left him…decidedly unsatisfied. He heard the slight yelp uttered by the boy as Paul grabbed him, and despite the fact he smirked outwardly, inwardly it made him feel nothing at all. No spite, no dark joy. It was frustrating. What doubled the frustration Paul felt was the look of joyful awe, rather than fear, that appeared on Damion’s features. What the hell was wrong with this boy? Sure, Paul knew he wasn’t going to hit him, but Damion had no way of knowing that. Why did he look happy to be close to him, rather than terrified he was going to get beat up? Their faces were very close together now. So close, in fact, that Paul could see clearly the blush as it spread slowly over Damion’s face. Suddenly, their closeness really hit him, and Paul felt his shoulders tense. However, he wanted to make sure his command for the boy to ‘shut up’ really sunk in, so he kept his grip on the boy’s scarf, even when a blush of his own reddened Paul’s cheeks. Unable to deal with being so close, however, Paul moved his face away, breaking eye contact to glare to the side. It was at this point, when Paul was not paying full attention to Damion, that the blond began to move his arms. He heard him mutter a question and Paul was about to shake him by the scarf for not obeying his ‘shut up’ order, when he felt something touching his hand. He was very close to Damion, true, but this was skin on skin contact, and Paul reacted as if it were an attack. Paul recoiled and jumped back, releasing Damion and bringing his hand to his chest as if it were scalded. In true fact, however, Damion’s touch hadn’t been hot at all. It had felt pleasant and warm against his own. So different from the rough, restraining grabs that were his only experiences involving physical contact. Paul had no idea how to react, so he went right back to default mode. Paul’s blush grew, but judging by the downright murderous expression on his face, it may well have been from rage. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again!” Paul snarled. He gazed down at his knuckles, realizing that Damion must have seen the scars, and had been asking what they were. Typical stupid Blondie. He wasn’t even able to recognize wounds of war. “ These are scars I got from punching idiots like you in the face, you stupid bastard! So stay away from me before I give myself some more!” He shouted, bending his shoulders as if he were about to actually do so. However, he broke off suddenly when he heard the redhead speak up quietly. He realized it was a command for his Sneasel to attack. Paul’s neck turned so fast back toward the battle he was involved in it cracked painfully. Damn Blondie for distracting him! He had completely forgotten about the boy! But upon seeing the speed with which Sneasel moved, Paul knew even if he had been paying attention Reeper would still lose badly anyway. Paul found himself staring at the Dark-type’s trainer with grudging respect. It really was well-trained. Apparently looks could be deceiving, as the boy didn’t look like much to Paul. “Hmph. Not bad, kid.” Paul muttered, his lip curling. The point of this battle was for Reeper to get some experience, so Paul didn’t care if he was defeated. However the redhead’s choice of words, namely the ‘go straight for the finish’ part, didn’t sit well with Paul. It wouldn’t do to have his sheep literally slaughtered, and have to call Reggie to send Staraptor back, and then have to go back to Professor Oak for a new starter. And so, though Paul was planning to let Reeper get hit without giving him a command, the purple-haired boy suddenly changed his mind. “Reeper! Thundershock, now!” He commanded, his eyes narrowing. Reeper, who had previously been in awe of Sneasel’s speed, woke up, and began to charge the attack. However, the Dark-type was too fast, and it was making the electric-type dizzy to watch him. And so, Reeper shut his eyes as he let out his weak bolt of electricity, not even bothering to take aim at all.
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Banette
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Post by Banette on Apr 7, 2009 15:10:00 GMT -5
The boy was actually merely toying with his opponent in all honestly. While throating the sheep would be fairly easy, what gain would there be for him? Just a lot of blood. Indeed, he was used to it, but going around a region he just got to cutting throats of innocent idiots wouldn't exactly be a reputable title to gain.
While he was planning for Sneasel to merely hit the Mareep with the back of his palm in hopes of surprising it a bit, the plan changed when the Mareep fired off a Thundershock.
With his paw dangerously close to the opponent's throat, Sneasel would probably have trouble avoiding it regardless of speed, or the direction it was originally going, leaving the only option to endure it.
"Ground yourself, follow up with a Scratch."
The redhead stated calmly, the Sneasel quickly digging one of it's back paws into the dirt the moment the weak electric attack gave him a small shock. While it wasn't exactly traumatic, the Sneasel's feather-like ear flattened itself to his head as he took the attack, it's slight discomfort evident. A brief second later, the dark type's paw switched directions, lashed out toward's the sheep's stomach, intent on flipping the Pokemon over.
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Post by Lucas on Apr 7, 2009 16:33:03 GMT -5
His first steps as a Pokemon Trainer were well under way. Lucas’s home was not far away, but he wouldn’t be turning back any time soon. He was on an errand, like usual, and he had to complete it efficiently.
The small town of Viridian bustled slowly around him. Nothing had changed within the time he and his family had moved there. Nothing had changed since he had received his first pokemon.
With a hint of something bittersweet in the blue of his eyes, Lucas reached into his pocket and retrieved the first pokeball he had been able to call his own. Inside was a pokemon of the same nature. I can have her out with me, Lucas contemplated. He was a rather independent person, but for now, he wasn’t in the mood to be alone. Not with all that he was leaving behind for this mission. Yeah, he would stay in contact, and visit once in a while--but setting off on a journey throughout the entire Kanto region was not a trivial matter. He smiled to reassure himself before opening the pokeball with a push of his thumb. ”Come on out, Turtwig.”
A red veil climbed out of the ball, shapeless and distorted as it continued through the air until it connected with the ground. As its illumination faded, a small, palpable creature was left in its place. ”Turtwiiiig!” she gargled the word, staring with a blank smile at her newfound trainer.
”Professor Rowan said you were special,” Lucas mentioned, although there was something in his voice that was faded, as if he didn’t expect the pokemon to understand. ”He said a female of your type is rare.” He grinned nostalgically, though the expression was half-hearted as thoughts wandered to his mentor. ”And he gave you to me…” He meant to continue, something along the lines of ’instead of keeping you for research,’ or for breeding, but he stopped himself in the presence of Turtwig. ”Well, come on.” Lucas said happily.
He knew the gym was abandoned here, and it wasn’t something that disappointed Lucas. He was well aware that a trainer needed badges in order to gain authority over certain pokemon, and that would be something he would need in order to complete the pokedex. You needed a good team of pokemon in order to catch the more powerful wilds. Lucas knew he was in no position to underestimate what he might come across. Still, something drew Lucas to visit the gym before he departed on his pokemon quest.
As the gym loomed within view, so did three boys--all presumably trainers, judging by the pokemon at their feet. Lucas glanced at Turtwig, who was merely staring ahead and wobbling alongside him on her little green stubs. He supposed he fit right in. He grabbed onto the yellow straps of his backpack, curling his fingers against the black vest he wore over his shirt and hoping he wouldn’t make a fool of himself--Lucas, while experienced with the important things, was a little amateur when it came to social situations.
And then he saw him. Lucas stopped--still at a considerable distance away, though not so much as to not be noticed--and without thinking, he muttered, ”D-Damion…?”
Was that him? Was that the kid he had met in Twinleaf? It… It was. There was no way it couldn’t be. He had had no idea where Damion had left to, but he had never fathomed it would be here… Lucas had managed to drop all thoughts of Damion or Dawn after both had disappeared. Work had once again become his life. Now that he was staring at the boy who was surely, undeniably Damion--and if not, was his nonexistent, identical twin brother--Lucas wasn’t sure what to do. Turtwig, on the other hand, seemed to know. If ‘knowing’ was more of an ‘obliviously ignorant,’ that is. She kept tottering forward, unaware that her trainer had stopped. She marched right for the others and sat herself down directly beside the yellow sheep pokemon, watching at a dangerously close range as Sneasel attacked.
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Post by nickbo on Apr 8, 2009 16:36:20 GMT -5
ooc/ Okay whatever the crack was has destroyed my mind with this reply. Revenge of the strike outs too; I haven't used them so explicitly in a while. D: bic/ For closing in so quickly he and Paul did end up splitting away fast.
Damion wouldn't have preferred it any other way. At least he wanted to think that; fast was better, right? Even if that fast was rather painful since the other adolescent had... Reacted badly to the blonde's touch but that didn't matter. After all, it was pretty much immediate; Paul had pulled away his hand and leapt away. Damion himself, however, was startled. Yes, startled but this time he managed not to release a yelp. Even though any yelp he would have released would have been manly; pfft, so definitely manly.
He still stumbled back though but that was mainly because Paul started yelling. The other boy didn't like to be touched? Then why on Kanto had the other pulled him so close in the first place? While the thoughts ran through Damion's head perhaps he should have noticed the pedoSlowpoke behind him. Sonic hadn't moved from the place she had been watching attentively and taking mental notes from earlier where Damion had been yanked from and although she seemed to have realized the yanking ordeal had occurred the separating action hadn't programmed in her head yet. She blinked, but of course, purposefully did not move, causing Damion to only trip over the pink slow abomination. He collided with the ground for what seemed the the umpteenth time that day; really, the blonde thought he was getting far too familiar with the ground he'd rather get familiar with Paul.
It hurt though. Generally the blonde was usually immune to the general pain of falling over but as he collided with the ground he felt... Well, he didn't know how to describe it (NEITHER DOES NICKBO SHE'S LAZY HOES). Breath almost shot out of him as he collided with the ground and the blonde winced, the hint of pain spreading across his face. He exhaled sharply and when he tried to breath in again it hurt. His gaze, however, still glanced up back to Paul. There was still the amazed, awed expression though despite the fact he seemed confused by the pain, like some sort of kicked puppy Poochyena (because I want to be different and not use Growlithe.
"W-wait... Stupid idiots like me...?" [/b] he asked, his voice hinting at general curiosity. It was weaker then before though that wasn't because of any sadness; the fact that it heart to breathe was the reason and the blonde took an uncomfortable, sharp inhale before continuing, "Then why haven't you punched me already? You do things fast, right?"[/b] It seemed impossible to break his enthusiasm and Damion was ignoring the fact he was even hurt by the other. His orange gaze flickered away and he attempted to pull his scarf back into place; it had been somewhat restricting of his air but it still fricken' hurt to breathe. Though his short attention span was caught as another pokemon entered the scene between the battle. In fact, everything seemed to be distracting Damion from the battle and he peered at the new one confused. He was so absorbed in his naive curiosity his only attention to the battle was a simple, out of breath call of, "H-hey! Be careful of that new thing; it's green and therefore awesome!"[/b] Damion's moronic awesome logic was returning.[/blockquote]
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Post by Wrath on Apr 8, 2009 21:44:27 GMT -5
Paul’s cold eyes were focused on the battle. Despite the fact that his attention had been sketchy in the beginning, he was in his zone now, and nothing was snapping him out of it. Reeper was a weakling, and Paul couldn’t get completely into the battle with him, but the sheep was all he had at the moment. The purple-haired teen gave a grunt of acknowledgement when Mareep successfully hit Sneasel with a Thundershock, albeit a weak one, but also managed to avoid damage. He shot a glance at the young trainer commanding the Sneasel, observing him with something like curiosity for a moment. He spoke orders calmly, as if he commenting on the weather rather than battling, adding no unnecessary words or encouragement. He was disciplined. Paul found himself respecting the boy for it. Or really, perhaps ‘respecting’ was too strong a word. But there was definitely a positive response stirring in Paul’s mind. He shook his head slightly, dislodging idle thoughts, and refocused on the battle. “Dodge it,” He commanded his pokemon gruffly. Reeper stared for a moment in shock at the Sneasel before him, unable to believe that his attack had stopped the speeding creature in its tracks. He heard his trainer’s command, and leaped to obey, but Sneasel was quicker. The Scratch attack hit him head on, and the lightweight Reeper felt himself being flipped right over. It was painful. Fortunately his thick fleece protected him from being cut open by the powerful claws, but there was still some stinging. Paul’s lip curled in irritation. “Get back on your feet, weakling!” He snapped. Mareep bleated and flailed his legs pathetically, and Paul was about to shout some more, when he heard the sound of someone hitting the ground rather violently next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Paul spotted a orange-white-and-green blur, and Paul realized that there really was something that could snap him out of his ‘battle mode’. Or more accurately, someone. Paul stared down at the winded blond beside him, raising an eyebrow. The shock and pain of hitting the ground didn’t really seem to affect the boy’s expression for long. He watched as Blondie winced for a moment, then the awed look he always seemed to wear when looking at Paul was back. Hadn’t Paul threatened to beat him up? Hadn’t he shouted at him? Hadn’t the message sunk in? Apparently not. Damion was like some demented punching bag that came back after being hit. One that came back happier every single time it was hit, more like. It was pathetic. Utterly pathetic. Or at least, Paul kept telling himself so. Without even realizing he was doing it, Paul found himself extending a hand to Damion. Ironically, it was the same hand that Damion had touched, only for a moment, while studying Paul’s scars. It was as if the hand was acting of its own accord, longing again for the warm touch it had had a taste of before. Almost as quickly as he had offered it, Paul yanked the traitorous hand away, his blush from earlier darkening. What the hell was he doing? What twisted hold did Blondie have over him, anyway? If the plum-headed boy thought this was humiliating, he found himself in even deeper water a moment later when Damion spoke up. Why hadn’t Paul punched him yet? He didn’t know. He didn’t truly understand it himself. Somehow thinking of Damion injured made his insides crawl with discomfort, while thinking of him unharmed made him…pleased? It was unfamiliar and confusing. Completely backwards from his usual mindset. But of course, this was Paul, and he would never admit anything of this sort. “Because I don’t have time to waste beating you up. Now clear out before I decide I have some free time.” Even as Paul spoke the words he felt the lie on his tongue. He was banking on Damion’s punching bag psychology that would make him disobey. Paul didn’t want Blondie to go. And this fact disgusted him to his very core. However, suddenly Paul remembered the battle. He turned back to it hastily, unable to believe how hopelessly distracting Blondie could be. Upon returning his gaze to the battle, Paul realized there was a new addition. A four-legged green pokemon was standing very close to his own Reeper. The teen noticed it was a Turtwig, a Sinnoh pokemon. He looked around for its trainer, as there was no way there was a wild Sinnoh pokemon in the Kanto region. He spotted a timid-looking boy with a red scarf and cap, and Paul centered his cold glare on him. “Get your damn Turtwig out of my battle!” Paul was really on a roll with his polite greetings towards strangers today.
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Banette
Junior Member
[M:0]
Beware the ADD Hookers!
Posts: 61
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Post by Banette on Apr 9, 2009 14:29:53 GMT -5
If he had thought his opponent pathetic in the first place, that opinion had certainly reduced to an even further rank now. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if the blonde haired one and the angry violet haired one ditched the Mareep and ran off to elope at any moment.
Allowing his arms to lay at his sides, he simply watched as the five-minute soap opera unfolded before speaking.
"You know, it would probably help your battling if you weren't so engrossed in your lover there." The redheaded boy smirked, before deciding it was about time to finish this pathetic excuse for a battle.
The Mareep wasn't showing real signs of being weakened, yes, but he estimated it wouldn't take much. Indeed, these two were amusing in some context, perhaps slightly intriguing to him. He had yet to see a pair more idiotic then these two, really. Scratch that- a third idiot had entered the scene. The boy with the red scarf didn't really do anything yet, but his Turtwig was in the way. Seeing as he seemed to know the blonde one, he knew to expect it.
No matter.
"Sneasel, Icy Wind."
As soon as he started on the first syllable of the attack, the Sneasel had already drawn in a sharp breath. Using the sign in front of the gym as a booster, the Sneasel hopped, placing two feet on the sign before leaping overhead of the overturned sheep. Once directly above his opponent, the ice type exhaled harshly, dagger like hail crystals exiting the Pokemon's mouth along with a bone-chilling gust of wind.
Indeed, he was aiming for the Mareep, but if that Turtwig didn't move it's grass ass, it would probably take the attack a little less pleasantly then the sheep it was intended for.
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Post by Lucas on Apr 9, 2009 16:51:24 GMT -5
From his dumbfounded stupor Lucas quickly realized just how much it was, in fact, Damion. The stunt the blond’s feet pulled from underneath him tugged a typical frown on Lucas’s features. ”Definitely… Definitely Damion…” he uttered, not exactly ecstatic. It was all coming back to him: Damion’s clumsy, obnoxiously oblivious self. Lucas wondered how he had ever missed him at all. He wasn’t left to himself for long, however, as he suddenly recalled the Turtwig who was no longer at his side.
Damn Turtwig? From the blond boy sprawled on the ground, Lucas brought his eyes to the first one to actually address him. Damion hadn’t noticed him yet--instead, this rather grim-looking, purple-haired boy did. Lucas narrowed his eyes, blue irises glinting their offense in the daylight: he soon realized, however, that he was quite to blame. ”Sorry!” he yelped immediately, though he wasn’t sure if he entirely meant it. The purple-haired boy didn’t exactly give off the most amiable vibes. ”Turtwig!” Lucas called, quickly covering the last few feet between himself and the others.
Turtwig didn’t seem to mind being at such close proximity to the goings-on of the battle; in fact, she seemed rather content. Perhaps it was the bliss of being so young. There was obviously something wrong with her where fear was supposed to trigger and keep her away from danger.
The other kid--one with red hair (something about him oddly resembled the boy with purple hair; Lucas wasn’t sure what) --did not pay any heed at all towards the tiny turtle. He merely continued the battle, and while there might be something admirable in that, it only irritated Lucas. How could you do a thing like that when a pokemon was clearly opt to get hurt? ”Hey!” Lucas cried once the sneasel had been ordered to attack. Out of fear for his pokemon, Lucas jumped forward and threw his arms around Turtwig.
”Turt!” the small pokemon squeaked, bundled up in Lucas’s arms as the chilling air exuded from Sneasel’s mouth. Turtwig was untouched, but the attack curled in slow, cold tendrils over Lucas. He curled his body to protect Turtwig (how could he have let her wander off like that? Stupid him; he was already turning out to be a terrible trainer) and tightened his arms as the icy air licked at his skin. His beret protected his head, but his face soon felt the effects as the ‘Wind poured down from above. Shivers quickly overtook Lucas’s body and his teeth chattered incessantly. The Icy Wind slowly covered his entire form, and although it wasn’t visible save for a few crystals that winked beneath the sun, his limbs became entirely stiff. The only part of him that moved were his teeth, chattering and chattering beneath his wide, stagnant eyes. Turtwig looked up at him from his grip, though she couldn’t really see past his chin.
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Post by nickbo on Apr 10, 2009 7:41:27 GMT -5
So Damion had intended to get pulled up by the hand.
In fact he moved for it. The blonde didn't know how he then managed to end up on in another pile. Maybe it was because Paul pulled his hand away? Yeah... That was probably why he felt his lungs screech in protest as he moved. His breathing did the completely irritating occurrence where it just didn't happen; pfft, what were his lungs doing? It wasn't like this hadn't been experienced before; he got injured all the time from his falls so the winding was no big deal. He was pretty sure it had been his fault anyway that happened anyway; he had almost leapt for the hand and Paul had just been faster then him. The other boy was speedier of course!
For some reason it hurt him though. Hurt him in the way that seemed not even related to the injury and although it was painful as he attempted to inhale again there was something else. Maybe it was the fact he had been too slow? This feeling, however, was sprawled across his face in the form of a startled, widened gaze and hurt pout/frown as he glanced back up; after all, Damion was never really the one to be particularly secretive about what he felt. Mostly because he didn't understand it anyway. The blonde begun to theorize the purple-haired boy had never intended to pull him up in the first place as but was instead a trick. He didn't particularly want to think that because for some reason it... Depressed him at the thought of the older adolescent doing that. Yes, despite all the cold words other had spouted it seemed that the hand-pulling away effected him the most. The words came though and Damion's expression froze as he attempted to program the words. His fist clenched slightly at his side for some reason and whilst his orange gaze did flicker away from for a Paul a few seconds it flickered back, determination suddenly in them.
"Well I'll just have to make you want to spend time with me! ... Punching I guess?"
[/b] So it appeared he hadn't really... Comprehended the meaning of the words. To Damion obviously the most important part of the sentence was the part that included time wasting; the last was added in a slightly unsure afterthought. However there was still the childish, naive awe yet that ended when something was yelled from the battle. That distracted him slightly but... Confused him? Perhaps one should point out that Damion did not have the most extensive vocabulary to grace the Earth and although 'lover' was upon the list 'engrossed' certainly was not. Though his gaze remained on the person who had stated the confusing term but his attention soon eagerly returned to Paul, "Wait Paul, you have a lover?!"[/b] Paul was so... Fast for his age! Somehow more amazement flickered across his features despite the fact that... Irritated him slightly. He didn't know why; after all, shouldn't he be happy at the fact Paul had a lover? ... That sentence sounded weird but that was supposed be true, right? Everyone was always happy for people had that sort of thing... Then something struck him about the sentence. 'There'... So Paul's lover was with them at that moment? Damion was having to do a lot of thinking and could he only blink confused. Well Paul certainly not his own lover and... Well, he doubted that one that he was battling with was his lover... So that immediately lead Damion onto the new person. That was the only possibility. "So you're Paul's lover!"[/b] the blonde managed to belt out indignantly, thrusting a finger in the direction of the new one. Damion hadn't really taken in the new person in yet; he just wanted to get down the topic of Paul's lover quickly! Though as he did begin to take in the other's appearance it was all rather familiar. The eyes, the scarf, the awesome girly beret... "Lucas!"[/b] he exclaim again but that time more... Cheerfuly. His smile wasn't one of awe though as it seemed more... Delighted then anything at else. Partly because Damion's memory had actually succeeded and therefore he was incredibly joyful but... Also because he had met an old friend. He hoped he got the name right anyway and his focus from Paul shifted entirely to the other. Something was wrong however. Ah yes, it had been the battle he hadn't been paying much attention to. It had... 'Developed' so to say. His friend appeared to be freezing. That panicked him since, after all, he had barely been paying attention to the fight and for it to come that far was... Was... Almost Rude. Were they supposed to be attacking trainers though? No, the reason became clear quickly. Lucas... Was defending the green thing. That seemed to seemed to bring back a few memories; trust him to attempt to be so... Heroic? Damion didn't want to admit that though so it was instantly girly. There was the urge to stop whatever was causing the ice though and the blonde, from his slight kneeling position, attempted to get up. That was when something started snuggling into his leg. "Sloooowwww..."[/b] So maybe that did get a girly clearly manly yelp from him. The trainer glanced down in panic and he could only exclaim, "S-sonic!? What're you doing!? W-we have to save Lucas!"[/b] Clearly the pink pokemon didn't view saving the other boy very high on the priority list as it rubbed onto him. That was doing very well to disturb the trainer but he attempted to deal as he jabbed a finger in the ice pokemon's direction and exclaimed, "You gotta tackle or somethin'!"[/b] There was the fact that Sonic didn't want to move as it continuing its molestation friendly time with its trainer. Maybe, finally, the command did sink it. But it just preferred touching its trainer so... It didn't want to tackle. Slowly, however, it opened its mouth and... Well... Water jettisoned out. It was, to put it simply, a Water gun. The Slowpoke looked as if it found the whole task incredibly irritating though as it attempted to aim for the Sneasel. Damion, however, looked so... Overjoyed. That didn't mean he would enjoy touching the pink abomination however as he attempted to push it off, "S-sonic... Get off me..."[/b] [/blockquote] ooc/ SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY. I-I am going to combust. Sorry. Sorry once again. It's predictable and somehow HELLA LONG. D:
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